Phyllis and Ophelia 31 



Those hocks don't look like winning races, do they ? 

 What's that mare ? ' he added, pointing to Ophelia, who, 

 Dossie was relieved to see, stood, well clothed, in a dark 

 corner box. 



' Oh, that's nothing, sir. My daughter's hack. I've 

 just put her in there as I w^as pressed for room,' was 

 Dossie's unblushing reply, and to divert attention he 

 busied himself about Phyllis. 



* Time to be starting, if she goes quietly to the station, 

 isn't it ? You call it four miles, don't you ? ' Osborne 

 asked. ' I'll see her off, and then I must get back, for I 

 can't follow till an evening train.' 



Sharpe and Thomas, peeping round the corner of the 

 saddle-room door, saw the unfortunate Dossie fixing his 

 card to Phyllis's head-stall, and in a few minutes — earlier 

 than was necessary, for Dossie was burning with anxiety 

 to get his client out of the stable — the mare was prepared 

 for the journey, turned round, and trotted off by one of 

 the boys towards the station. Sharj)e, who wanted to 

 call at the saddler's shop in the town, mounted a hack, 

 and set oft' on his journey, accompanied by Thomas, 

 riding Ophelia. 



' I'll see that it's all right, ' Mr. Sharpe said, nodding 

 significantly to Dossie, as he got into the saddle. 



* You understand how it is ? ' the trainer said. ' You 

 see, I had to put the wrong label on ; but when you get 

 to the station you'll have a chance, or, if not there, at 

 some station where j^ou stop, j^ou can just ' 



* Yes, I know ; leave it to me,' Mr. Sharpe added, 

 turning his hack's head, and following Thomas into the 

 road. 



